


They Used To Shout My Name, Now They Whisper It

by accurst_writer



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:42:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26446546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/accurst_writer/pseuds/accurst_writer
Summary: That one line from Yellow Flicker Beat, but apply it to Clove and Cato instead.
Relationships: Cato/Clove (Hunger Games)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12





	1. Clove

**Author's Note:**

> That line refused to leave my head, but I have a reputation as "the girl who only writes about the Careers" to uphold. So this happened.

**Whisper.**  
“Clove. Listen to me. Don’t trust our parents. Don’t ask them for anything. Stay out of their way. They’ll hurt you like they do to me. Please, Clove.” Clove’s sister, Fennell, rolled up her sleeve and showed Clove a fresh burn on her arm. “Don’t trust them.”“I don’t.”

 **Shout.**  
“CLOVE KENTWELL!” Clove winced and tightened her hand around the handle of the knife she’d stolen from the dinner table. Since her sister had died, her parents had focused their abuse on her instead. Three more days, she told herself. That was when her first term at the Academy would start.

 **Whisper.**  
“Clove, right? I didn’t expect you to be so small.” Enobaria’s voice was quiet. Clove glared at her. “I’m short, but I’m more vicious than you’d think.” Enobaria smiled. “I believe you. I wasn’t tall as a child either.”

 **Shout.**  
“CLOVE! CLOVE! CLOVE!” It’s her third fight of the day and she’s won everything so far. She has a knife in each hand and is facing a scrawny 12 year old boy. Everyone watching cheers her name. They’d be stupid not to. She won’t lose. She doesn’t lose.

 **Whisper.**  
“Clove Kentwell, yeah. I heard she’s supposed to volunteer this year.” Hushed voices talk about her everywhere she goes. None of them will say it to her face. They’re scared of her, of her knives, her slightly unhinged ferocity.

 **Shout.**  
“Clove Kentwell!” She shouts, when asked what her name is, and the crowd cheers. They’ve seen her train, they know she’s good. A future victor, you could say.

 **Whisper.**  
“Clove Kentwell, huh?” The Gamemakers are rewatching the footage from her private session. She didn’t miss a target. “She’s good.” One of them mutters. They can’t openly say who their favourite tribute is, but a few of them would definitely say her.

 **Shout.**  
“CLOVE! CATO!” The kids back in the District 2 Academy are cheering as they watch the bloodbath on television, as they watch Clove throw her first knife.

 **Whisper.**  
“Clove, get on with it. Hurry up!” The Academy kids were watching as Clove taunted the girl from District 12. “Kill her quickly, dumbass. Hurry!” They frantically muttered, eyes glued to the television. 

**Shout.**  
“CLOVE!”  
Cato’s nearby. He’s shouting her name, but she knows he’s not going to make it. She’s going to die here, she can’t die here.  
She can’t move, but he’s there.

 **Whisper.**  
“Clove, please, stay with me.”Boom.


	2. Cato

**Whisper.**  
“Cato Hadley.”  
“It’s perfect.”  
His parents stared at their newborn son, smiling.   
“He’ll be a victor one day. I’m sure of it.”

 **Shout.**  
“CATO! STOP!”  
Brutus yelled across the training ring. 7-year-old Cato was twisting his opponent’s arm behind him, and his opponent was yelling. “Ok, you win! I surrender! Geez!”  
“YOU’RE GOING TO BREAK HIS ARM, STOP.”  
Eventually, Cato registered Brutus’ yell and dropped the other boy to the floor. 

**Whisper.**  
“Cato, right? Sure, I’ll train with you.”  
Clove twirled her knife in her palm, and Cato wondered just what he’d gotten himself into. He knew her last training partner was in the infirmary, with no predicted recovery date.

 **Shout.**  
“CATO! CLOVE!” The other trainees watching their fight were divided. At first, they’d wondered why anyone would think Clove had a chance. They quickly realised the pair were evenly matched. Clove was faster, but Cato was stronger. So, the cheering continued, divided, until Cato finally won. 

**Whisper.**  
“Cato... why did you do that?”  
Clove was staring at him, and he was kinda surprised she hadn’t stabbed him yet.   
“I don’t know.”  
She blinked.   
“Sorry.”  
She leaned closer and kissed him back. “No regrets, Hadley.”

 **Shout.**  
“CATO, YOU ASSHOLE, GIVE IT BACK!” Clove, with a grin on her face, tried to grab her favourite knife from his hand. “I hate you.” She grumbled when he held it above her head. 

**Whisper.**  
“Cato Hadley.” He muttered, when they asked for his name at the reaping. He ignored the crowd’s cheering, and couldn’t care less that this was what he’d trained for. Because he knew who he was going into that arena with. And he’d give anything not to be here.

 **Shout.**  
“CATO, GET HER!”  
Grabbing another branch, he pulled himself further up the tree. “I’m coming for you!” He yelled up to Fire Girl, sitting at the top of the tree. But pride comes before a fall, and he certainly fell, as he placed his hands wrong and the branch snapped. 

**Whisper.**  
“Cato, look to the left.”  
The Academy kids were clustered around the television, watching as Cato stood at the edge of the cornfield, waiting for Thresh, while Clove was at the Feast. “He went around you, idiot! He’s skirted through the trees!”

 **Shout.**  
“CATO! CATO!”  
He heard her voice and whipped his head around. He saw what was happening (how had Eleven slipped past him?) and ran, faster than he’d ever run before, hoping he’d make it in time to save her.

 **Whisper.**  
“Cato-“ Clove’s voice was choked up and her breathing was shallow.   
He clung to her like a lifeline, as though the sheer force of his will could heal her. But heads aren’t supposed to be that shape, and there’s no recovery if they are.   
“I can’t lose you” he whispered, but she was already gone.


End file.
